The Wanderers: The Theft of Midnight
Before We Begin...: Before we begin, I would like to clarify that the characters in this story belong to me (Ochorus101) and my friend IntOxic. If you wish to use these characters, you must ask for permission first. Also, keep in mind, this story is not yet finished, as the last chapters are still going through revisions. But, I will try to update this page with a new chapter in at least 1 week intervals. Now, grab some popcorn, and enjoy the fanfic! Prologue: Wind and snow. All that could be heard and seen is wind, snow, and ice. Not that it was a problem for Polar. It was a lot better than the dry heat of the desert, or the damp heat of the rainforest. Though there wasn’t much prey or food around, it was like a wide open haven for the IceWing dragonet. Carrying a bag full of stolen walrus meat on his back, he trudged through the thick, crystalized snow. The smell of the winter air around him was practically sickening. He wasn’t particularly fond of the scents of the Ice Kingdom. They were all so… plain, so to speak. Or, maybe that was just because he was used to the boring scent of the crisp air that constantly invaded his nose. He shook his head a little. He shouldn’t be focused on a certain scent in a particular area, he should be worrying about where he is going to sleep tonight. After all, he didn’t give a thought to claiming a shelter earlier all day. You '''idiot','' he scolded himself, glancing around at his soothingly dull surroundings. The wind whistled loudly in his ears, the sky starting to darken. Clouds were rolling in, and fast, which could only mean one thing… He began to run. He ran as fast as he could, in search of any kind of shelter from the brewing storm. If he got caught in the blizzard that was currently forming, he might as well kiss his life goodbye. For one, if he fell asleep in the middle of the blizzard, he would be buried by a bunch of snow and would most likely suffocate, and second, even though IceWings are naturally used to the cold, that doesn’t mean that they cannot freeze to death. “Just stay calm, you’ll figure something out,” he muttered, the air that was exhaled from his open jaws crystallizing into a thin cloud of mist in front of him, temporarily fogging his vision. The winds began to whip up around him, causing his pace to slow. There was no turning back in this storm. He didn’t even try to bother attempting to spread his pale wings. Because of the wind, they were pressed up against his body. Guess that means there’s no flying out of this mess either. He trudged his way through the snow, which was now swiftly piling up high. The only way to comfortably keep his eyes open enough to where he could see was to squint, not that it helped much anyways. He might as well have a blindfold tied around him, it wouldn’t make much a difference in his current predicament. Then, he spotted something. Through the raging flurry of snowflakes that were determined to block his view, he spotted something. At first, it just seemed like a lump of uneven snow on the ground. Must’ve stormed extra right over there, or there’s just a very small boulder under the snow, he thought, straining his vision to see what was there. But then… was that movement…? Did the lump of snow just… move? He took a cautious step forward to more thoroughly see what the thing was. Slowly and carefully, he brushed the snow off of whatever was under it with his tail. What he found practically made his heart stop for a second.The first thing he saw was an indigo colored rock covered in frost. But then, through squinted eyes, Polar managed to figure out what was buried under the thick layer of snow. A SeaWing… '' What lay there, in the middle of the snow, was a severely wounded SeaWing, blueish red blood pouring out of the wounds that covered them from head to talons. The scales that he could see through the blood were a sickening frost bitten indigo. The small SeaWing dragonet looked so fragile, as if all of their bones would break if you merely poked them with a dulled down talon. The SeaWing was shivering, but wasn’t conscious. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you outta here,” he whispered, carefully picking up the tiny SeaWing. They were surprisingly light when he lifted them onto his back. He tried his best not to poke them with one of his spikes sticking out of the back of his head. He pondered what a SeaWing was doing all the way out here, and why they had so many wounds as he walked through the harsh downfall. There was the strong possibility they were caught trespassing by some IceWing guards. After all, the IceWings were fierce enemies with the SeaWings. ''So this poor dragonet got this wounded by multiple unforgiving and nonsensical adult IceWings just because of a petty and pointless war? This war turns out to be worse than I thought by every passing day, Polar thought to himself bitterly. Suddenly, he saw an opening. It was a dark patch in the middle of the solid grey and white features of a nearby mountain. A cave. He ran as fast as he could towards the cave, occasionally having to move the dragon on his back back between his wings, as they would start slipping off his back due to the sudden speed Polar had gained. He slid straight towards the cave, barely avoiding crash-landing into the back wall of it. They were safe. . . . Polar waited hours and hours for the SeaWing to wake up. In attempt to heal their wounds, he had packed snow over them, in hopes that the packed snow would help stop the nonstop blood flow from the wounds that covered the dragonet. Finally, after hours and hours of waiting, their eyes opened. A pair of icy blue eyes met his gaze, their eyes filled with absolute terror. The little indigo dragon looked as if they were paralyzed in fear. He held up his talons, attempting to show he wasn’t a threat. “No need to worry, SeaWing. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said with a warm smile, attempting to soothe the startled dragon, “I’m Polar, by the way. How about you?” The SeaWing stayed silent for a good thirty seconds, their breathing still quick and heavy. “P-Pac-cific-c,” the SeaWing squeaked in a soft, high pitched voice. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. Do you feel alright? You were covered in wounds when I found you in the middle of the blizzard outside. I thought you might’ve been dead,” Polar asked. Pacific rolled her shoulders a little, looking like she was trying hard to contemplate her answer. “I-I-I-I’m f-fine,” she stuttered. She looked over at the opening of the cave around them, staring at the flurry of snowflakes outside. “I-I should g-g-go.. I don’t w-wanna bother y-you…” “A SeaWing like you couldn’t last more than five minutes out there, especially in your condition. Please, stay here to rest. It’ll help with the healing process for your wounds,” Polar told Pacific, which gave the tiny indigo dragon a quite surprised reaction. “Why a-are you being so n-nice to m-me..? I thought she said a-all dragons would h-hate me..” she finally asked after staying silent for a while. Polar tilted his head, squinting at her. What exactly did she mean by that? “Why would I hate you?” he asked, head tilted in curiosity and confusion. “Th-The dragons that looked like y-you hated me. My m-mother said e-everyone in this land aside fr-from her is all th-the same when it comes-s to dragons l-like me,” Pacific practically whispered, “Isn’t th-that true…?” Polar barked a laugh. Seems like her mother was quite a bad teacher when it comes to other dragons, then. “Of course that’s not true, every dragon’s different in certain situations all in their own way,” Polar explained, holding back his snorts. Pacific clenched her talons around something that was dangling around her neck. An amulet, or necklace, perhaps..? “I hope you’re r-right…” she laughed slightly, “Because, i-if it were true, a-all the things my mother h-has ever said…” Pacific trailed off, the small smile fading from her face. Polar wrapped a wing around the now quivering SeaWing, which made her go stiff. “Everything will turn out alright, I promise. You should get some rest, Pacific, was it?” he asked. “U-Uh, yeah,” Pacific said with a swift nod, “Pacific.” “Well, it’s ice to meet you,” Polar said, holding back a small laugh. It would be just a tad bit too awkward to laugh at his own joke around a totally unfamiliar dragon, so he did his best to hold it in. Pacific giggled a little, covering her snout with her slightly less shaky wing. “It’s ice to meet y-you, t-too,” Pacific responded with a slight smile. Pacific only said she’d stay with him for a few days, but a few days eventually turned into a few weeks, then a few months, then a few years. Polar didn’t mind, though. He was eager to travel the world with the SeaWing. No matter what, he was determined to stop the war that plagued the land, no matter what it took. He couldn’t allow more dragons like Pacific being severely wounded every day on the battlefield. And with that, the two set off; just the two of them, all alone in the wild. Category:Fanfictions (Fanon) Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete) Category:Genre (Adventure) Category:Content (Ochorus101) Category:Fanfictions